


Hidden Vulnerability

by Sukuangtou



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Big Brother Kraglin, Blood, Can be Kraglin/Yondu, Family, Feels, Fever, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kid Peter Quill, Little brother Peter, Seizures, Swearing, sick Kraglin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 12:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11357124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sukuangtou/pseuds/Sukuangtou
Summary: Peter learns that by keeping his head down, he can spy on the Ravagers. At first it's fun, and then Peter notices Kraglin's worrying habit. Concerned, he takes to following the first mate everywhere, and it's damn lucky that he did.Can be Kraglin/Yondu if you want.





	Hidden Vulnerability

Peter very quickly learnt that to get by on the Elector, it was best keep your head down. There were times, of course, where he forgot this. He was a kid, what did they expect? He could not be perfect 24/7. That would be boring. However, he also learned quickly that if you did manage to keep quiet and unseen, you could spy on the Ravagers.

And spying on the Ravagers was _fun_.

He caught them doing all sorts of things. He saw the green guy with the big chin secretly swiping food from other people's plates when they were distracted, and eating it himself. He saw the woman with horns nicking pens from all over the ship, and sniggering when people went mad because they could not find one. And Peter saw the man with the tattoo around his eye hide stash of Xandarian chocolate behind the fire extinguisher on C Level, which was promptly swiped by the ten year old and consumed (later causing an alien equivalent of a sugar high and driving Yondu insane).

Sometimes, however, he found out things which were a little less fun.

Like the whispered mutterings of a mutiny, not long after Yondu announced Peter was going to be staying. He had gone to Kraglin about that. That night he was instructed to put his music on high and stay in his room. Peter didn't argue.

There was also the time when he overheard a rather detailed account of how one Ravager had 'dealt' with an enemy. Peter had been in the vents, then, frozen in pure horror. He ended up spending the night curled up on the end of Yondu's bed, though he had awoken under the covers.

One thing he had noticed, which he was sure nobody else had, was Kraglin's little habit of wandering off the some quiet spot to deal with his injuries. The first time he spotted the first mate doing this, Kraglin was in the hanger, curled up behind his M-Ship, silently cleaning and bandaging a deep cut across his leg. Peter wasn't meant to be in the hanger, and didn't fancy a lecture from a grouchy Yondu after the failed mission, so he had kept still and watched. Kraglin hadn't seemed all that hurt, and sorted himself out easily enough, and afterwards Peter hadn't thought much about it.

Then he saw him in a secluded corner again, stitching his up a gash on his hip.

And then a third time, splintering his wrist.

And the fourth time, putting his _entire shoulder back into its socket._

Peter had seen it before, on a nature documentary he watched with his mother a few years ago, before she became ill. Sometimes animals would get injured, and would wander away from everything else and curl up and die. 

Suddenly, Peter became very, very worried. 

Yondu didn't know about Kraglin's habit, nor did anyone else. What if he got so banged up that when he did his vanishing act that he laid down and died? If no one knew where he was, how could they help him? Would they even notice he was missing until it was too late?

Peter like Kraglin, they had a good relationship. Great, actually. Kraglin didn’t try to be a father figure to him, and Peter never tried to act like ‘the good son’ to Kraglin like he (sometimes) did with Yondu. It was like having a brother, and Peter liked that. He could go to Kraglin more than he could Yondu, because half the time Kraglin would either join in the fun, or help him wiggle out of trouble. As Peter suspected came with having a sibling, not that he would know from experience, there were down sides. Both of them tease each other, though not harshly or to the point of mockery, and Kraglin was not as soft as to let him avoid the odd cuff to the back of the head once and a while. But Kraglin liked his music, and would talk until the early hours about nightmares, and Peter could feel the deep respect he had for Kraglin growing by the day.

After that realisation, Peter made a point of following Kraglin whenever he hid.

And, a few months later, Peter thanked his lucky stars that he had.

He knew something was up, he was sure that even Yondu had picked up on that. The first mate was quieter than usual, and dark shadows were appearing under his eyes. Then again, his increasingly pale skin made all colours seem more prominent than usual. When Peter had sat with Yondu on the bridge, _totally_ listening to whatever Yondu was saying, he noticed that Kraglin was swaying a little as he read the monitors. 

He climbed into Kraglin’s bed that night, long after the first mate had gone to bed, and lay listening to his heartbeat like he had with his mother before she was forced to stay in hospital. If Kraglin had noticed him there he made no effort to show it. When Peter woke the next morning he had been alone.

Peter knew Kraglin went away when he was injured, but wasn't sure if he would do the same when he was sick. 

Therefore, Kraglin gained an unseen shadow. 

Peter followed him everywhere, to the bathrooms, the mess hall, to the engine room. He attempted to follow when they docked on some wet and rainy planet, but Yondu had grabbed him by the collar and ordered him to stay on board. When the crew had returned soaked to the skin but successful, Kraglin appeared even shakier, a slight tremor in his hands as he ordered crew around. New cargo was dragged on board, big boxes of something Peter will have to investigate later, and the Ravagers promptly celebrated a job well done in true Ravager style. Peter could hear the laughter from his room.

When he had searched for Kraglin, Peter found him was with the crew, sat to one side and talking to someone while nursing a drink. When Yondu walked by, patting him on the back as he did, Kraglin had grinned and lifted his drink. When the captain was gone he quickly went back to sitting there, talking to whoever that was, no smile on his face. Usually, Kraglin would have been part of the drunken mob.

Kraglin sat there for ages, and as a result Peter sat there for ages, bored out of his mind. He tried to keep himself occupied with the other Ravagers, watching as they staggered around, cheering when more alcohol was delivered.  
The horned woman was standing on a table with two other people, the green guy was arm wrestling with a bald person, and the man with the tattoo around his eye was in the process of chatting up another bemused crew member. Yondu was in a chair the other side of the room, talking merrily and twisting his arrow around his fingers.

Peter almost missed Kraglin leaving, having to leap up and weave through the crowd after him. Kraglin led him away from the party, down to the lowest deck of the ship. Peter did not usually come down to the lowest deck. There wasn’t much down here to entertain himself with, and often the only people found on this level were engineers and mechanics. Peter had learnt the hard way not to mess with their equipment, he still had the scar. 

Kraglin made a sudden sharp turn, all but running down a corridor before flinging himself into the nearest bathroom. Peter blinked at the change of pace, and hurried over to the door, putting his ear to it. The sound of vomiting met him. Lovely.

He left Kraglin to...That, and hid himself behind some of the ship’s piping, being careful not to touch the hot one. He put his headphones on, clicked play, and waited, lightly tapping his leg along with the beat. Although sometimes hearing the same songs over and over became a little dull, he never fully tired of his music. Plus, he could annoy the crew by knowing all the lyrics and singing along at the top of his lungs. 

Three songs had gone by before Peter began to worry. Had Kraglin fallen in? Surely being sick did not take that long. Maybe he was cleaning himself up. Peter wrinkled his nose and shook that thought from his head. Ew. 

Or maybe he had fallen down, and now lay unable to get up again.

He nibbled his lip.

He was sure Kraglin had a temperature he was not telling anyone about, what if he had become delirious? What if he had passed out, and hit his head on the toilet?

Slipping off his headset, Peter listened. He couldn't hear anything, was that good, or bad?

He jumped when the door slid open, and Kraglin, looking sweaty and white, emerged from the room, one hand on the wall. He was taking bigger gulps of air, and as he began to walk back the way they came, his legs became more and more unstable.

Peter silently followed. 

They didn't get far.

Kraglin all but slumped against the wall, and Peter heard him mutter a curse. He paused, breathing heavily, before harshly stabbing the button to another door, staggering inside.

They were in one of the mechanics rooms. Tools and buckets and dirty rags were scattered about everywhere in untidy piles. A large shelf housed a variety of paint and all sorts of odd pieces of equipment that Peter fancied getting his hands on. He would have to come back here later.

Kraglin collapsed to the ground between a desk and some stacked chairs, and Peter quickly ducked behind some boxes. 

The first mate sat there against the wall, chest heaving and eyes distant, skin glistening in the light. Kraglin drew up his knees, leaning his head forward to rest it on his legs. His hands shook.

They sat there for a while. 

Then sat there for even longer.

Peter began to wonder if Kraglin had dozed off. His eyes were closed, and his heavy breathing was slowing. Peering around the boxes, Peter could see his body was beginning to go limp. Kraglin's head lolled forward.  
And then he toppled to the ground, knocking against the table.

His legs spasmed and his head knocked repeatedly against the floor.

His arms moved unnaturally.

"Kraglin...?" Peter gasped, his feet rooted to the spot as the older man jerked violently. His back and shoulders hit the table again, and a heavy looking tool fell, landing loudly and too close to Kraglin's head. 

"Kraglin!" He cried, feet freeing themselves and darting forward, falling to his knees. What did he do? He had never seen anyone fit before! Where you meant to hold them down? He tried to hold Kraglin's wrists but couldn't match the strength of the first mate. 

Kraglin's head bashed against the metal floor, and Peter tried to hold it. Kraglin was in an odd twisted position from where he had fallen on his side in the cramped little space. That was probably doing more damage than good. Gritting his teeth, Peter attempted to drag Kraglin so he was flat on his back. He had barely moved him an inch when he noticed the dribble of deep blue blood running out the side of Kraglin's mouth.

"Oh god, oh god, oh _shit_..." 

What did he do? What the hell should he do?

He went back to holding his head, at a loss.

The fit lasted another minute, before finally slowing to stop. Peter whispered a quiet thank you to whoever was listening.

"Kraglin, can you hear me?" He patted his cheek, "Kraglin?" He received no response. His skin was hot and clammy to the touch, and his breath came out in short pants. Blood still pooled in his mouth. Peter tried to tip it out.

He needed to get help, but he didn't want to leave Kraglin alone. 

But, Peter didn't really have a choice. He had no means of getting in touch with Yondu, and he didn't trust the other crew members not to take their chance and lob Kraglin out the airlock while he was down.

Slipping off his jacket, he pillowed it under Kraglin's head.

"I'll be back quick, ok? I won't be long."

At school, Peter had hated running. It was not that he was particularly bad at it; it was just there were other sports that he enjoyed more. If he had the choice, he never chose running, or track, or cross-country. Soccer, maybe, or baseball.

He had forgotten about that. Funny, the things you remember when you sprint across a flying spaceship thousands of lightyears away from your home galaxy to find the captain after your kinda big brother had a seizure. 

Peter kept going, up the five flights of stairs, across the other side of the ship, through the still rambunctious crowd. By the time he got to Yondu, who was thankfully still in his seat and watching his crew, he was red in the face and sweating. 

"What's up with you, boy?" Yondu looked bewildered. Peter didn’t care. He just panted, hands on his knees, trying to catch enough breath to communicate with Yondu. He stumbled closer, so the man could hear him over the noise.

"It's... Kraglin..." Yondu frowned at him, sitting up more in his chair.

"What about him, boy?"

"He's sick. I... followed him to the bottom floor." Peter took a gulp of air, "He's had a seizure." Yondu's eyes widened and he was immediately on his feet.

"Show me."

And so Peter went running all the way back to Kraglin, Yondu hot on his heels. He had a feeling that Yondu wanted to run faster, but as Peter much shorter legs and only he knew the way, he was forced to stay a pace behind him. 

"Here." He pointed at the door, and Yondu was instantly pushing the button and rushing inside.

They met Kraglin choking on his own blood.

"Shit!" Yondu hissed, cupping the back if his head and carefully opening Kraglin's mouth. "He's bit his tongue; help me turn him over."

They pulled Kraglin from his hole between the desk and chairs, and laid him on his side. Blood spilled from his mouth, and Yondu slapped his back hard. Kraglin coughed weakly, warm blue pooling on the floor below.

"What's wrong with him?"

"Hell if I know, but we need to get him to the med bay." Now Kraglin wasn't choking as much, Yondu got his arms under his back and knees and hauled Kraglin up. "Get the door, Quill." He said shortly.

They hurried through the corridors; their pace slower than before now Yondu had precious cargo. Kraglin was limp in his arms, head bobbing against Yondu's chest as if every bone in his body had dissolved into nothingness, leaving weak limbs in their stead. Peter went ahead and held all the doors open. The entire time Kraglin remained unconscious.

"Hey, Doc!" Yondu shouted as they arrived in the medical bay, making the man jump. 

Peter had only met him twice, once to get doped up on half a ton of vaccinations to survive in space (fun) and the second time when a baby tooth fell out and the crew had a heart attack, thinking they weren't feeding him right or some other nonsense. The doctor was a funny, weedy man, and if he was human Peter could just imagine him with big round glasses and a retreating hairline. Probably the type who would go on about ‘kids these days’.

"What's happened?" The doctor indicated to a bed, where Yondu gently placed. The doctor began to check his pulse, timing it with a watch.

"He's sick, Quill said he had a fit."

"Really?" Large eyes turned to him, "How long did this fit last?"

"I..." Peter swallowed, "I don't know, I didn't time it, a long time though."

"Hmm." The doctor began undoing Kraglin's jacket and shirt, taking note of the heat.

"He also threw up." Peter added.

"Blood?"

"I didn't see."

Yondu, who had been looking between the two, gave an impatient huff.

"So what's wrong with him?"

"I don't know yet, possibly flu of some sort. Could be something he picked up planet side. Maybe an infection somewhere." He took out a stethoscope and listened carefully, moving the silver circle into different positions. Eventually he removed the disc and made a shooing motion at Peter and Yondu. "I need space; you can wait outside, if you want."

"But-" Peter started.

"Out!" The doctor interrupted sharply, turning his back to grab necessary equipment 

"C’mon, Quill." Yondu put a hand on his shoulder and steered him out. "The quicker we're out the quicker he can work."

There was a bench outside the med bay, and Yondu sat down heavily, running a hand over his face. Peter hovered nearby, fiddling with the wire of his headphones.

"Will Kraglin be in trouble?" He asked tentatively. Yondu glanced at him.

"Damn straight he will be, hidin’ his sickness like that, only an idiot does that."

Peter chewed his lip, sitting down on the bench. Yondu continued to watch him.

"He's..." Peter started quietly, "He's been doing this for a while now." 

"Fitting?"

"Hiding. He often does. When he's hurt." Yondu looked away, and Peter heard swearing under his breath. Peter kept his gaze down.

"For how long?" Yondu asked, his voice softer than before.

"I only noticed a couple of months ago. I guess it's longer than that, though."

"And you follow him?" 

Peter nodded. 

"At first it was just for fun, but then I got worried that he would collapse somewhere and no one would know where he was." He licked his lips. "So every time he went off I'd go too, not that he knew. He dislocated his shoulder not that long ago, did you know that?" Yondu shook his head dumbly, his focus entirely on Peter. "And he's stitched up his hip not long before that. Last month he splintered his own wrist!"

"Fuckin’ hell..." Yondu muttered, his elbow on his knee and face in his hand, "That moron."

"I knew he was sick, so I followed him when he left earlier."

"Thought he was sick, but wasn't sure... Damn it."

Peter kicked his legs, running his thumb over the foam covered headphones.

"Am I in trouble for spying?"

Yondu shot him a surprised look, before placing a hand on Peter's upper arm.

"Nah, boy, you done good."

"Really?"

"If it weren't for you, he'd still be hidden away somewhere choking on his own blood." Peter nodded, and settled back into the bench. Yondu did the same, crossing his arms over his chest. They sat there in silence for a while.

"Why didn't he tell anyone?"

Yondu pursed his lips, his knee beginning to bob up and down.

"Won't know 'til we ask him, kid, but I have my suspicions..."

"Like what?"

"Not everyone has had a nice childhood, that does stuff to people."

"Oh."

And so they sat there, for two long hours. Peter had slipped on his headphones, letting the music calm him. Eventually his head began to nod, the later hours beginning to catch up with him. The last thing he remembered before dozing off to the Pina Colada song was someone laying him down so his head was pillowed on their leg.

......

He awoke to low voices. Peter was on his side across the bench, his jacket now tucked under his head and his Walkman settled neatly beside him. He groaned and stretched, blinking tiredly at Yondu and the doctor.

“Welcome back.” Yondu teased. Peter yawned.

“How’s Kralgin?”

“Better than he was last night,” The doctor informed him, “Though he won’t be on his feet for a while.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Peter asked, sitting up.

“Got himself Palsian flu,” Yondu answered, “A bad case too, Doc says Kraglin’s probably had it for a while.” The doctor nodded.

“If he had come to me a few days ago, it’s unlikely that the fever would have become so high.”

“Idiot.” Yondu sighed.

“Can we see him?” Peter stood, slipping on his jacket and slotting the Walkman into place.

“Sure,” The doctor moved out of the way of the door, “He’s a bit doped up at the moment, so he’s likely to be asleep, but you can visit him.”

“C’mon Quill.” 

Yondu and Peter walked inside, Peter hurrying over to the bed where Kraglin lay, asleep. His clothes were gone, now neatly piled on a nearby table, and he had several drips attached to the crook of his elbow. A thin blanket covered him, and a heart monitor beeped quietly to one side.

“Idiot.” Yondu said once again. “Listen, boy, why don’t you go get some grub?”

“But-” Peter began to complain.

“He ain’t gonna wake up for a while now, and I don’t remember you eating anything last night.” Yondu put his hand on his hips, looking stern. “Most of the crew will still be out cold, so go get some food, yeah?”

“I…” Peter sighed. Yondu had a point; he had forgotten to eat dinner last night. Now he thought about his, he felt his stomach growl. “Ok.” He finally agreed, albeit reluctantly, plopping on his headphones and heading for the door, though not before giving Kraglin one last worried look.

“He won’t go nowhere,” Yondu reassured, “Don’t you worry.”

……

There were times where Yondu felt old, which was completely unfair because he was anything but old. But, damn, all these youngsters running around. If he had hair it would be grey by now. 

Not that Kraglin was all that young, either. There were only a few years between them, and his first mate had a pretty sturdy head on him. That was why he was first mate. Yondu could rely of Kraglin to organise things, get his men moving, and make far-fetched plans a reality. 

But looking at him now, at the too pale skin and furrowed brows, Yondu couldn’t help but think of him as the scrawny kid who stumbled onto his ship all knees and elbows, desperate to get off his backwards planet. 

Kraglin’s hand moved, and a low groan came from the man.

“About time.”

“Cap…” Kraglin blinked, eyes growing confused as he groggily took in his surroundings, licking his lips. “What…?”

“You’ve got Palsian flue, imbecile,” Yondu crossed his arms, “Had it for quite some time, actually. Did you actually plan on telling me?”

“Palsian…” Kraglin groaned, lifting a hand to his face and rubbing his forehead, “I don’t… I thought it was a cold…”

“A cold don’t make you vomit.” Yondu said, keeping his voice stern, “Or seizure.”

“Seizure?” He croaked.

“If Quill hadn’t been following you, you would have choked on your own blood. You bit your tongue.” They stared at each other for a moment, Kraglin looking bewildered.

“Peter followed me?”

“Yep. In fact,” He uncrossed his arms and sat forward, voice dropping a little, “Peter has informed me of a certain habit of yours.”

“I-” 

“You don’t need to hide yourself away, y’know.” Yondu kept their eyes locked, “You are allowed to get injured. Or sick.”

“I… I know, it’s just…” Kraglin struggled for the right words, “It’s just what we _did_ , that’s all. Kept your head down, dealt with whatever on your own, and if you keeled over then that’s your fault.”

“I get it, I do. Old habits die hard.” Yondu spoke from experience, there, “But things work different here. You’re first mate, if you keel over without my knowing then how the hell am I meant to run this pile of junk? Plus, I don’t fancy stumbling across your rotten corpse all that much. Not like we can open a window.”

Kraglin snorted. Yondu grinned.

“If it makes it easier, next time you’re hurt, or sick, come to me.”

“O-Ok, Captain, I’ll try.”

“Damn well better try!” Yondu stood, cracking his neck, “I’ll have my eye on you, Obfonteri.” Kraglin chuckled, and gave a weak salute. Yondu rolled his eyes and made his way to the door, where he pulled it open and stood to the side, letting Peter topple in.

“Woah!”

“Catch you listening in on me again and I’ll eat you.” Yondu threatened, grinning as Peter climbed to his feet and stuck his tongue out. He then turned around.

“Kraglin!”

“Hey Pete.”

Peter dashed across the room and all but flung himself into Kraglin’s arms. The sick man made a soft ‘oof’ sound.

“You threw up and then you collapsed and then you had a seizure and then you had a fever and wouldn’t wake up and, and-”

“Breathe, Pete, for crying out loud.” Kraglin poked him in the nose, pausing Peter’s running mouth. Kraglin grinned. “I hear I’ve had a shadow followin’ me about.”

“Oh, haha, yeah,” Peter calmed down, though he still clung to Kraglin’s arm, “Not mad are you?”

“Mad? I never even knew you were there.” Kraglin addressed Yondu, “We should use him on missions, he’s good.”

“Really?” Peter’s eyes lit up, and he quickly latched onto Yondu, “Will you do it? Can I come? I can be real sneaky, even Kraglin didn’t notice me! Please, Yondu? Please, please, please, please-”

“I hate you.” Yondu said stiffly to Kraglin, who smirked and settled back into the pillows as a weariness took over his body.

“Please, no one will even know I’m there, c’mon you can’t say no to this face!” A sharp whistle brought the onslaught to a very sudden, silent, stop.

“Boy, I’m going to give you to the count of three, and if you’re not gone by then, it’s roast Terran for supper tonight.”

Peter had never moved so fast.

“That’s what I thought,” Yondu shook his head, before moving to leave, “See you later, Krags.” He called over his shoulder, leaving his first mate in peace. Kraglin didn’t hear, he was already out of it. 

……

The day passed by calmly. Those of the crew sober enough, or at least not likely to vomit, where left to clean up the aftermath of the party, a job no one enjoyed doing. Those not, spent the day nursing their sore heads in bed. By the time evening came around, many decided it wasn’t worth getting out of bed by now and kept on dozing, leaving the Elector quieter than usual as evening rolled into night. 

Although his body cried for it, Kraglin did not let himself fall asleep just yet. It was late, and the gentle humming of the engines created the perfect white noise to doze off to, but he refused to let his mind sink back into the comforting black. But Kraglin was waiting.

The door opened and closed softly.

Kraglin left it for a few moments, before sighing softly. He opened one eye.

“Come here.” He said gently.

He shuffled over to one side, letting the small body climb up onto the bed and curl into him. Closing his eye again, Kraglin ran his hand through the kid’s hair. Peter fiddled with a stray string of the blanket. 

“Sorry I scared you, Pete.” Kraglin kept his voice low, “And thank you for getting the Captain.”

“You’re forgiven, and it’s alright. Kraglin?”

“Hmm.”

“You’re going to be ok, right?”

“Course I will. With the amount of drugs I’m on, I’ll be as high as a kite by tomorrow.”

“Ok.” A beat passed. “Kraglin?”

“Hmm?” Sleep was really beginning to sing to him now, and he was finding it hard not to drop off.

“Can I sleep here, tonight?”

“Course you can.”

Peter brought the sheet over himself, settling into Kraglin’s side, tucked carefully under his arm. Kraglin ran his hand over Peter’s shoulder. Soon, Peter’s breathing slowed.

“Kraglin?” Peter whispered a few minutes later.

“Hmm?”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Pete.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title for story, “I’m stuck for ideas on my multi chapter fic, let’s procrastinate!”
> 
> This was inspired by an ask on Bluesocksandfluff's tumblr page, which I highly recommend for GOTG awesomeness!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


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